


The Perks of Being Hollywood Spawn

by Lenasaurous



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), But it's really just fluffy, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, It's based quite a lot off of the second year event in the talent development program, M/M, No Despair AU, School Play AU, cultural festival, implied child neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-19 13:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenasaurous/pseuds/Lenasaurous
Summary: “Wait, why the fuck is Shuichi the other lead?” Kaito asked Kaede the next morning when she announced the roles to the class. “I didn’t think he was even going to act in the first place?”Kaede shook her head. “It wasn’t my choice, Kirumi and Shuichi did all the casting.”“Dude, what?” Kaito turned to Shuichi, surprised. “You want to? Can you even act?”“Well I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I couldn’t. Besides,” he explained, pulling out books he’d need for the next lesson, “Kirumi and I both agree it would be the best course of action. I mean, not many people in our class would be able to tolerate Kokichi for as long as I’ll have to.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Credit of the title goes entirely to my beautiful friend Sterndecorum btw!

That particular morning had been more than average for Shuichi. He hadn’t awoken to anything strange, his breakfast hadn’t been poisoned and he’d met nothing out of the ordinary on the walk from the dorms to his classroom. And as he waited for registration to commence, his nose in a book, the rest of the class was milling about the way they did every morning. That included a too loud conversation, snide gossip and the scheduled yelling about something or other.

Everything was perfectly normal.

At least it had been until Kaede had strode in, Kirumi on her tail, both late. She then, in an unusual turn of events, spoke out to the class. With no one quite knowing what was going on, Kaede managed to hold their undivided attention.

“I told you guys two weeks ago that we needed something planned for the cultural festival. And still no one has suggested anything,” she explained, looking disappointed, not that the majority of the class cared. “And Munakata-sensei has been hounding me about it ever since I mentioned it. So I had to come up with something myself. I’ve been discussing it with Kirumi, and we’ve come to the conclusion that we should put on a class play.”

An outcry of upset erupted from the class.

“And by what logic do you consider that a good idea?” Maki asked, baffled.

“Yeah, most of us hate each other anyway!” Kaito pitched in, standing up behind his desk, chair screeching across the linoleum floor.

“While it would be wonderful to witness the cooperation of youths with potential such as ours,” Kiyo contributed, “it is an inevitability that such a project would crumble after a day or so.” While some were either confused or creeped out by Kiyo’s phrasing, most of them agreed in one form or another.

Kaede had expected this kind of reaction and merely rolled her eyes. “Would you at least hear me out?” she pleaded, clenching her fist tighter around the strap of her bag. “I’m not only saying this because no other class had taken the idea yet. Although that is a factor. Both me _and_ Kirumi believe that our collective talents are perfect for such a thing!”

“How exactly?” Rantarou asked, not so much bitter as he was confused. “There are no actors in our class. Or singers. Or directors or producers or composers.”

“Well,” Kaede retorted, pouting. “I thought that _I_ would compose the music. It wouldn’t be a 'musical' or anything, just ambience. I can do _that_ sort of thing. And Kirumi has agreed to be director and producer.”

Beside her, Kirumi nodded in agreement. “It won’t be the first time I’ve directed a stage show.”

“Exactly!” Kaede stood up straight, clapping her hands together. “And most of the class have fitting talents too! Like Angie, you could make props! And Miu could handle lighting and mechanical stage direction. That should be easy for people like you!”

“You’re fucking right it would be easy!” Miu boasted. “I could do that shit in my sleep! I could make something that could do that shit for me _while_ I sleep!”

Angie nodded too, rocking side to side in her chair. “An easy feat for Atua as well.”

Kaede realised that she was starting to convey her point and was growing excited. “And Tsumugi could handle costumes!”

“As long as the play’s about fictional people!” Tsumugi interjected. “It would be fun to make costumes for everyone, though.”

“And Himiko!” Kaede turned to address the shorter girl. “As a magician, you work with the stage. Your show last Christmas was great!”

“I’m not a magician!” Himiko protested, ignoring the rest of Kaede’s point. “I’m a mage! I do _real_ magic, not tricks for audiences!”

“Well, okay.” Kaede faltered but remained determined. “But you still put on shows. That kind of professional knowledge about stagecraft would be invaluable!” Himiko didn’t say anything in response but still looked flattered, shrugging non-committedly. “And while everyone else’s talents may not be so relevant, we’ll need stage hands and promoters. And I’m sure Angie, Miu and Tsumugi would appreciate help with supplies and models and so on. And then we’ll need actors too. I thought Kokichi would be well suited to that.”

The excited murmur that had begun to pick up throughout the room was immediately extinguished. Everyone stared at Kaede for a moment before turning to Kokichi, who looked as incredulous as everyone else.

Now with all attention on him, Kokichi leant forward on his desk. “Would you be so kind as to elaborate?” he requested, too taken aback to make any kind of snarky remark.

“W-well…” Kaede began, gulping. “I thought… well you’re such a convincing liar, and you’re always bragging about it. And lying’s a hop, skip and a jump away from acting! R-right?” she explained with a hesitant smile.

Kokichi, though, had finally found something he could overreact to. “How _could_ you, Kaede!” he cried out in what Shuichi could only assume was mock outrage. “Lying is more than _acting_. Do you know how offensive that is to me?!”

“Oh, come off it,” Kaito interrupted him, nose wrinkled in a sneer. “You know Kaede’s right.”

“Not you _too,_ Kaito!” he whined, voice quivering. “And I thought th-that you of all people would understand!”

Kaede, desperate to diffuse the situation before Kokichi broke into loud crocodile tears, burst back into the conversation. “I was being completely serious though!” The rooms attention moved back onto her. “I really do think you’ll be brilliant at acting. If _you’re_ headlining, Kokichi, this will be way better than regular school plays! _Please._ Give it a go.”

Now everyone was watching him again, only this time the air was no longer charged with confusion and animosity.

Kokichi stared at her, gaze suspicious and scrutinising, before he huffed and sat back. “Okay, say for a second I’ll agree to do this; answer me something first.” When Kaede nodded, inviting him to go ahead, his expression turned smug. “Do you even have a script?”

This didn’t seem to be a question Kaede had wanted anyone to ask before they agreed, as she stood dumbly searching for words. After a good ten seconds of her failing to conjure an answer, Kirumi stepped forward in her stead. “Not yet. However, we both felt it presumptuous to pick a story without the class' consent.”

“So let me get this right,” Kokichi said, smirk splitting his face. “You’re asking we do something like this when you haven't given the most crucial aspect of the proposal any thought. Right? I mean, it’s not a full-blown play, is it? It’ll have to be about half an hour or so, and there aren’t many scripts out that quite that short. Writing one would be out of the question, only a professional could write something halfway decent in the two months we have. And besides, who in here could write a decent script in the first place? Unless someone’s hiding a secret talent.”

The room was split on this issue. Some people didn’t care, agreeing with Kirumi’s logic, while others followed Kokichi’s line of reasoning. Why _should_ they be expected to commit to this when it hadn’t been given nearly enough thought?

But that was when Shuichi realised something and, after a moment of consideration, raised his hand.

“Oh, Shuichi!” Kaede exclaimed, overjoyed at the prospect of someone she trusted speaking up. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking that… well if we don’t have an appropriate script I could always, um… I could ask my mother if we could use one of her rejected drafts and work from that?”

“I don’t follow,” she said, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

Shuichi sighed and let his shoulders drop. “My mother’s a television screenwriter. Not only would it be professionally written, but also an appropriate length. At least after adaptation,” he explained, staring at the wood grain on his desk. “It was only a suggestion though.”

“Oh, that would be fantastic!” Kaede exclaimed, back with full gusto. “It’s… well, it’s perfect!”

And like that, all tension dropped from the room.

“Does that mean you guys will do it?” Kaede asked hopefully.

The excited chatter buzzing through the room spoke for itself.


	2. Chapter 2

Once the class had come to a formal agreement on doing the play, Shuichi found himself facing an issue he really should have seen coming.

He had to contact his mother.

Shuichi hadn’t spoken a word to his mother in the best part of a year and hadn’t seen her, _or_ his father, in almost a decade. So picking up the phone had been nerve-wracking for more than one reason. Would she be bitter if he called only asking for a favour? Would she outright say no? What would he do then?

Much to his relief, his mother was none of those things. If anything, she was thrilled that he was showing an interest in her line of work. He tried to assure her he wasn’t, but he wasn’t sure he’d gotten his point across. Regardless, she said yes, and the following day he walked into form with good news for his classmates.

“I asked my mother about the script,” he announced as he arrived that morning.

All heads snapped to look at him before leaping up to pelt him with questions. The class had agreed that a romance story would be the easiest to pull off, but they were open to other possibilities if Shuichi couldn’t get his hands on one.

“No, no, I don’t have it yet,” he had to explain, raising his voice to be heard above the clamour of the students surrounding him. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “My mother got all excited and insisted on writing something new.” He was met by a chorus of cheers.

A few days later the script was emailed to him along with possible alterations. Within the day everyone had been assigned a job, whether it suited them or not, and work had begun.

For reasons quite unknown to Shuichi, Kirumi had asked him specifically to act as her assistant of sorts. She’d reasoned that as Kaede was doing the music she’d be unable to help with direction and that, in her stead, Shuichi was by far the best candidate. So first order was casting, which had started as soon as that day’s classes ended. First and foremost though, they had to figure out which of the leads Kokichi would be playing.

The two romantic leads were a member of a medieval royal family and a charlatan fortune teller. Theoretically either lead could be any gender and they were open to casting Kokichi in whichever role he felt most comfortable in.

It was obvious to all three of them which he would want.

“Just to be sure though,” Kirumi said, looking down at the short script on the table in front of her, “do you want to read a few of the fortune teller’s lines?” She flipped through the pages until she found a passage that suited her fancy. “It’s possible you won’t like the part as much after reading through it,” she reasoned, well aware of Kokichi’s fickle nature.

“Sure thing mum!” he agreed, legs swinging back and forth under the desk chair that was a little too high for him to sit on comfortably. “As long as my beloved Shuichi reads the princess’s lines!”

Kirumi turned to Shuichi and raised her eyebrows. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, um, yeah. I suppose I could… do that,” he agreed, picking up his closed script. He’d never done any acting before aside from a small production he’d been forced to be in during middle school. He was sure this would lead to plenty of teasing fodder for Kokichi down the line, but he figured they wouldn’t get anywhere if he didn’t.

Both boys turned to the same page and started.

“I fear that your future does not look too blessed by fortune, my Princess!” Kokichi said, voice falling soft and foreboding. “I see loss, illness and death on the path ahead!”

“Surely you speak in jest, Teller!” Shuichi exclaimed in what he hoped was an offended manner. “Speak the truth and, please, do not tease and frighten me. You are too cruel!”

“I am nothing but honest, your highness, but you must allow me to finish! For while I see pain, I also see hope in a truth you did not wish to know. A light that will keep you prosperous and in good health!” It was almost scary how genuine Kokichi sounded when acting. “You must rejoice for the good that shall come of a momentary melancholy.”

“Do not blame _me_. You must speak quicker in the future. But is this all you can tell me? It isn’t much, is it?” In contrast Shuichi was certain he didn’t sound stuck up enough. Not that it mattered.

“Well, my Princess, you must understand that the fruits of my trade are not always clear and bountiful. Fate be a fickle mistress, so we mortals can do no more than _hope_ to unravel her words. Better men than myself have devolved into madness in the pursuit of knowing is to come!”

“That’s probably enough,” Kirumi stopped them. “Kaede had excellent judgement. Don’t you agree Shuichi?”

He nodded. “Definitely!” He turned to look at Kokichi with a small smile. “You’re really talented at this.”

Kokichi’s lips pulled up in a sneer as he leant forwards though. “And you’re pretty shitty. I would have thought you could at least do better than _that_.”

Shuichi couldn’t help but think that was unwarranted, he had at least _tried_.

“Well I’d argue the opposite,” Kirumi protested out of the blue. “You’re also good. I had no idea you were hiding such a gift.”

Kokichi sniggered and leant back in his chair. “Yeah, I was lying,” he added, scratching his ear. “You’re not as good as _me_ , but you seemed to know what you were doing.”

Kirumi turned to look at Shuichi, perplexed. “Kaede told me you didn’t want to act, but I’m starting to think you probably should. I doubt anyone else will be such a convincing actor as you.”

“Mum’s right, but I still don’t get _why_. A detective has no business being as good at acting as you are: you’re supposed to be able to see through an act, not put one on.”

Shuichi shrugged. “If I had to hazard a guess… Well you have to be someone you aren’t when interrogating witnesses and suspects. If you can’t be as friendly or as forceful as you need to you’ll never get a halfway decent testimony. Although my uncle’s way better at it than I am.”

“That makes sense,” Kirumi said, nodding. “I suppose that’s why you’re the Ultimate Detective. But that aside, maybe you should consider acting.”

“But what about you? I thought you said you needed help?”

Kirumi smiled. “Yes, but I can manage. Especially if it means I’ll get another talented lead.”

“I can’t let you get overwhelmed!”

Shuichi refused to let the issue drop. In the end though, he agreed to do it on the condition that Kirumi would allow him to continue as her assistant. Besides, it turned out, unsurprisingly, that no one else wanted the part.

Well, Shuichi reasoned, acting couldn’t be that be that bad. Right?


	3. Chapter 3

“Wait, why the fuck is _Shuichi_ the other lead?” Kaito asked Kaede the next morning when she announced the roles to the class. “I didn’t think he was even going to act in the first place?” His sentiment was echoed by a number of the others.

Kaede shook her head. “It wasn’t my choice, Kirumi and Shuichi did all the casting.”

“Dude, what?” Kaito turned to Shuichi, surprised. “You _want_ to? Can you even act?”

“Well I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I couldn’t. Besides,” he explained, pulling out books he’d need for the next lesson, “Kirumi and I both agree it would be the best course of action. I mean, not many people in our class would be able to tolerate Kokichi for as long as I’ll have to.” He shrugged.

Kaito started, ignoring Kokichi’s protests from across the room. “But… but Shuichi,” he began, at a loss for words in the face of Shuichi’s dismissive contentment. “You do know _who_ we’re talking about here? And _what_ you’ll be doing? Right?”

Shuichi shrugged again. “Yeah, I guess it’ll be weird, but I don’t mind.”

Eventually Kaito gave up on trying save his best friend and everyone came to terms with the development. After all, at least they didn’t have to do it.

***

While most people in the class weren’t too fond of Kokichi Ouma, Shuichi didn’t mind him all that much. He’d never been Shuichi’s favourite person in the world; hardly surprising, what with the way the other boy took glee in being irritating on purpose. However, he could say with confidence that he liked Kokichi a hell of a lot more than the rest of his classmates. Despite that though, even he felt that the prospect of spending hours every day trying to make the boy behave was daunting.

He’d barely been ten minutes into it before he could feel the first migraine setting in.

“Kokichi, could you please put your phone down,” he pleaded. Kokichi didn’t look in any way motivated to start practising.

“I’m busy,” he protested, waving Shuichi off. “Gimme a minute.”

“I’ve already given you ten.”

“No, you’ve given me eight and… about twenty seconds. Stop lying Shuichi, it’s unbecoming.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Would you please take this seriously? We need to know this thing in _three weeks_. Your phone can’t be more important.”

“ _Some_ of us have demanding talents, Shuichi,” Kokichi drawled, still refusing to look up from his phone. “Just because you only have to do detective things when it suits you, doesn’t mean that we can _all_ tend to our talents when we feel like it. I have an entire organisation to run, y’know? I have to give orders and make sure no one’s causing trouble. I’d hate for the markets to crash again just because you made me memorise some dumb lines for some stupid school play I didn’t want to do anyway.”

Shuichi leant over to have a look at his phone screen. “You’re scrolling through fanart on Tumblr.”

At last, Kokichi ripped his eyes away from the screen to scowl at Shuichi. “Fine, you caught me.” He dropped his phone onto the desk his feet were kicked up on and picked up the script next to it. He spent a few seconds flicking through the script, muttering under his breath, before pausing to look up. “You know… I hate to say it, but Kaito _did_ have point this morning. You do understand what you’ve agreed to, right?”

Perplexed, Shuichi cocked his head to the side. “Yes? What isn’t there to understand?"

Kokichi watched him a moment before elaborating. “This play… it’s a romance, remember? And we’re the leads. In a _romance_.”

“And?” Shuichi wasn’t stupid, he knew what Kokichi was getting at, but he still found no issue. “It’s acting. Professional actors have done _far_ worse in their careers.”

“Are implying kissing me is bad thing?!” Kokichi cried out, hurt. “You’re so mean Shuichi! And here I thought you wanted to be my co-star because you were in love with me or something!”

Shuichi sighed. “About that though. Kirumi said we should take that bit out of the scene. For our own comfort amongst other reasons.” He turned to same page of the script. “She suggested a hug or something, I thought it was a good idea.”

“Aw, but that was the part I was most excited for,” Kokichi complained, a snarky grin splitting his face. “It would have made Kaito freak!”

Shuichi snorted. “Well I guess you’ll have to find some other was to mess with him. Can we get started now?”

“Oh, but _why,_ ” he whined, letting his hands drop so the script was resting on the floor. “Surely it would be better if we _learnt_ the lines before trying to act them.”

“But we’ll learn them faster if we read through them together. At least, that’s what my father says. When you get him going about his career he won’t stop until you make him.”

Kokichi looked up in surprise. “ _Both_ of your parents are in showbusiness?”

“Oh, err… yeah I guess so.” Shuichi nodded.

“No wonder you’re so good at this, it’s bred into you!” he teased, moving to sit upright. “But are you really going to do it that way just because that’s how your Dad does it? I thought you didn’t even live with your parents?”

While it was a mystery how Kokichi knew that, he’d only told Kaede and Kaito about his complicated home life, Kokichi knowing things he shouldn’t was never a surprise. “Well, I know other actors learn that way as well. I’d rather learn the lines as dialogue than as a textbook.”

“Urgh, yeah, I guess,” Kokichi conceded, turning back to the first page. “Shall we then?”


	4. Chapter 4

As the days passed, Shuichi started to realise that he sincerely enjoyed being in Kokichi’s company.

The boy wasn’t what you’d call approachable, and he’d never shown much of an inclination to be approached. In fact, in spite of all outward appearances, he came across as a very solitary person: Shuichi could recall very few times when he’d seen him spending time with _anyone_. However, Shuichi had discovered that not only was he a witty, intelligent and funny person, but that he could be a lot of fun to pass the time with.

Shuichi found himself looking forward to their private rehearsals as, while rehearsing with the others could be an arduous task, when they were alone it was a pleasurable experience.

He’d tried to explain this to his friends, but they all refused to believe him. Kaito and Maki thought that he’d been blackmailed into saying it.

After a while though, Shuichi found himself feeling guiltier and guiltier: it was entirely his fault that after a year and a half, he was only discovering all of this now. Kokichi was the first person he’d met in a long time who could consistently challenge him in conversation. It was refreshing, and he only wished he’d made an effort to get to know him sooner.

Now that he was actively trying though, he was facing the wall that had deterred him from this in the first place: Kokichi didn’t want to be known. And it was nigh impossible to climb this wall for a very specific reason. Kokichi wasn’t just a good actor, he was one of the best to ever grace the planet.

He could probably make anyone believe anything he said, truth or lie, and, if he didn’t want you to, you’d never know which it was. And even if he did, by this point he’d garnered such a reputation with his classmates that they doubted anything he said. Any effort to be earnest would just be shrugged off as a lie anyway.

Acting alongside him was intimidating, as Shuichi knew that no matter how hard he tried he’d never be able to compare. But more than that, he couldn’t hold a serious conversation with the boy, because he could never tell if he was being misled.

Still, Shuichi wasn’t the type to be deterred by something like that. If he didn’t at least try to solve seemingly impossible mysteries how, in good conscience, could he keep his Ultimate title? Therefore, he decided to start by sitting with the other at lunch.

Kokichi had been suspicious when Shuichi approached him in the cold courtyard claiming he wanted to sit with him, but he’d eventually settled down. Before long they’d fallen back in to the comfortable air of conversation they held during rehearsals.

“I mean, she didn’t even call on my birthday, and now that it suits her, we’re on the phone every night.” At some point Shuichi had started going off on a rant about his mother, something that later struck him as odd, never having been the type to complain, even when something was genuinely angering him. “I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but… I just wish she’d leave me alone, y’know?” He sighed and leant back on his hands, cool grass tickling his palms. “What about you?” he tried, not expecting much. “I can’t be the only one with annoying family.”

Kokichi shook his head and dug into the dirt with his fingernail. “My family’s kinda non-existent, so I can’t say I relate.”

Shuichi watched him, trying to figure out whether he was being serious. “Really?”

“God, Shuichi,” he exclaimed, looking up. "Why would I lie about something like this?”

“Well… I expect you to lie about that kind of thing,” Shuichi refuted. “Too personal of a question.”

Kokichi paused to smirk. “Look who’s been paying attention. But would you, in all honesty expect, someone like me to come from a loving, supportive family?”

“Maybe. That could just be what you want me to think.”

Kokichi pouted at him. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“ _That_ ,” he repeated, pointing his dirty finger at Shuichi. “Trying to be all psychological and shit. You’re gonna end up figuring me out.” He huffed, but Shuichi was fairly certain he was being playful.

Shuichi shrugged. “Figuring things out _is_ my job.”

The other sighed and stretched his legs, picking the dirt out from under his fingernail. “And that’s why you’re the most annoying person in this place.” He paused deliberately, inspecting his hand before continuing. “I actually have to _thin_ _k_  about what I’m saying when you’re around. You’re too intelligent.”

The complaints left Shuichi unsure whether he could be insulted or flattered. He’d never heard Kokichi call _anyone_ intelligent before. “Um… thanks?”

“I’m trying to say that I like spending time with you.” Kokichi flicked him in the forehead. “Maybe my compliments are misplaced. Or maybe you spend too much time with Spaceface. Stupidity must be contagious.”

“Is that why you spend time so much time alone?” Shuichi was joking but he still held out hope for a serious answer.

But Kokichi just nodded and grinned brightly. “Obviously. Did it really take you _that_ long to figure it out? I really shouldn’t let you hang around me, I’m losing brain cells by the second!” He laughed when Shuichi frowned at him. “Really, Shuichi, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“You couldn’t at least be a little receptive?” Shuichi pushed himself up and leant forward. “All I want is to get to know you better.”

Kokichi didn’t speak for long while. He refused to for a good minute, stubbornly avoiding Shuichi’s gaze and bringing his knees up to his chin. Shuichi didn’t risk saying anything, suspecting that if he did the other would just bolt.

Eventually though, after a lot of ugly tension, Kokichi started talking. “I don’t know _why_ you’d want to do that but… Okay so that’s what _you_ want to do. If you can figure out what I _don’t_ want to do, then… I don’t know. _Something_.”

With nothing more, Kokichi leapt to his feet and snatched his back up off of the ground. “See ya later, Shuichi!”

He was acting cheerful, but for the first time ever, Shuichi could _tell_ that he was acting. The glee was forced, and he ran away with just a bit too much haste to be casual.

Shuichi spent the remainder of that lunch period trying to wrap his head around what Kokichi had said. If he really wanted to befriend the other boy, it seemed he’d have to work for it.

Well, Shuichi figured it was more than worth it, especially if it meant solving the Ultimate Supreme Leader, the biggest mystery he’d ever had the pleasure of encountering.


	5. Chapter 5

Shuichi was still trying to figure out what Kokichi had meant days later.

The question was undeniably a very simple one: what was Kokichi doing that he didn’t want to? For any normal person this would be obvious, for Shuichi at least. But this was Kokichi, and Shuichi had long known that nothing could ever be obvious with him.

He did everything with a cheerful gusto, as long as he did it of his own volition. He always made it evident when he was upset, Shuichi figured his anger was the one emotion he struggled to hide. For just about everything else though, it was nigh impossible to figure out what was going on in his head.

Everything he’d thought he’d known about the other had been thrown into question. Was Kokichi really ever happy or upset or feeling anything at all? For all Shuichi knew, Kokichi was a psychopath who could flawlessly imitate emotion.

Kokichi had been consuming all of his thoughts, all of his time, whether he was in class, or eating a meal, lying awake at night thinking about it, or even in rehearsal as he stared right at him.

“Shuichi!” Kokichi sang, waving his hand in front of Shuichi’s face. “It’s your line~!”

“Huh?” Shuichi jerked out of his thoughts, looking around at the amused faces of his classmates. “Where were we?” Kokichi leant over and pointed at his line. “O-okay, thanks.”

He gathered his bearings and stood back before clearing his throat. “But surely you speak nonsense, my dearest Seer!” he exclaimed, aiming for panic and feeling reasonably confident. “Without you I’d be dead within the hour! I couldn’t possibly survive without your otherworldly wisdom.”

“W-well. Well, I suppose but…” Kokichi stuttered before shaking his head. “But my Prince! You must understand that I see no more danger in your future!” he announced, desperation lacing his voice, stepping close to Shuichi. “I see only safety and happiness! Your future is clear, and it is cause for celebration and I am _not in it!_ ”

Shuichi scoffed and turned around, throwing his arms into the air, memorised lines returning as his concentration grew. “That cannot _last_ , you say it yourself!” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “‘The future is foggy and everchanging’, the telling of fate never being clear even to the most proficient in your profession. What if you are wrong?”

“What if I am wrong in the future!? What if I get you killed with a false prediction?”

He then grabbed Shuichi’s shoulder to turn him around, as practised. Unfortunately he pulled a little too hard and, thanks to his height, pulled Shuichi down. Shuichi lost his balance and came crashing unceremoniously on top of Kokichi. Both of them hit the classroom floor with a loud thud, Shuichi’s forehead crashing into Kokichi’s, causing the back of the boy’s head to thwack against the floorboards.

The others rushed over to make sure they were okay. Someone ran to get Kirumi while they fussed over Shuichi, leaving Kokichi to tend to himself. In fact, Kaito, who’d been planning stage layout with Angie and Himiko, started blaming him for what happened (which wasn’t surprising).

“You didn’t have to manhandle Shuichi like that,” he accused, pointing at him. “Just because you’re a hobbit that doesn’t mean you need to bring the rest of us down to your level.”

Kokichi grinned and kicked his legs back and forth under his chair, removing his hand from the crown of his head. “But the world is so much more interesting down here! I thought Shuichi may have been a less useless detective if he could experience things the way I do.”

Kaito did _not_ like that. But before he could do anything, Shuichi grabbed his arm and wrested him back. “Kaito, he’s not being serious!” he tried to assuage his friend.

Shaking him off, Kaito turned around to Shuichi. “The fuck, dude? He insulted you!”

“No, he didn’t,” Shuichi protested. “He was only joking.”

“ _Yeah Kaito,_ ” Kokichi started again, and Shuichi could already tell where he was going. “It was only a joke, learn to take one!” Kaito sneered at him but Kokichi ignored him and jumped from his chair to skip over to Shuichi. Although Shuichi didn’t know how he did it without his head throbbing. “It would seem my darling Shuichi is the only person who truly understands me! I mean, did you ever think that I pulled him down so I could get a bit more up close and personal?”

Shuichi could have sworn he heard Kaito growl. “You _what?_ ”

But before much else could happen, Shuichi had put himself between them, sighing defeatedly. “Why don’t… Kaito, why don’t you go back to Angie and Himiko and let us rest or… whatever? We’ll be fine, really.”

“It’s not _him_ I’m worried about.”

“Well _I’ll_ be fine. We just need some space.”

Kaito backed off, respecting Shuichi’s wishes, with the girls right on his tail. The others present moved away as well, leaving the two alone.

Shuichi forced Kokichi into a chair. “You’re hiding the pain pretty well,” he commented, rubbing his forehead where it had smashed into Kokichi’s.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” But the smile Kokichi wore as he bounced in his chair for added effect looked forced.

“You can drop the act.”

Kokichi stared for a while, before his face fell and his shoulders sagged, hands instinctively reaching up to massage both ends of his head. “I can’t have been _that_ obvious,” he moaned, letting his eyes drop shut and a grimace stain his youthful face.

“You weren’t particularly. I just refuse to believe that I sustained a worse injury than you,” he explained in a whisper, feeling that a loud noise would just anger his growing headache.

There was one thing still evading Shuichi though; he couldn’t comprehend why Kokichi had gone out of his way to make the situation worse. Why would he ever rile Kaito up if it was at his own expense? He knew Kokichi took great pleasure out of messing with the other, but he was the type to look out for number one. It lined up with his established reputation, but that was about all.

And that was when it hit him.

“You didn’t want to do that, did you?”

Kokichi laughed. “Why would I _want_ to crack my head on the floor? You already saw through that lie.”

“No, no,” Shuichi stopped him. “No, with Kaito.”

That caught Kokichi’s attention. His eyes snapped open and he swivelled to look at Shuichi, face blank of emotion.

“I mean… I know you like messing with him, you like messing with all of us; it’s fun for you. You don’t want us to actively _dislike_ you though, but you have a reputation to uphold so-”

“Would you keep your voice _down_!?” Kokichi whispered, panicked. “We aren’t alone.”

“S-sorry…” Shuichi apologised looking around, relieved to find that no one was listening in on them. Although he noticed Kaito was shooting worried glances their way. “But my observation still stands.”

Kokichi stared at Shuichi as he continued to nurse the back of his head. After a while though, he sighed and slumped back in his chair. “Fine I guess you pass or whatever.” He pouted and looked away, face dusted pink for reasons Shuichi couldn’t begin to fathom. “But you shouldn’t expect me to starting pouring my heart out.”

“I’d be worried if you did,” Shuichi assured him, a proud but gentle smile rising to his lips.

“Good… but I’ll… I’ll stop actively hiding it.” He looked off towards the others before abruptly turning back. “Only from you though! You can’t tell anybody, _ever._ Especially Kaito. I know you don’t keep any secrets from your boyfriend over there.”

Shuichi chuckled, embarrassed. “It’s _really_ not like that…”

“I know he has a thing for Maki, I’m not blind. I was just teasing you.”

Shuichi nodded, oddly relieved.

That was when Kirumi marched in with a first aid kit to interrupt their little heart to heart. Much to Shuichi’s relief, Kirumi didn’t let biases get in the way of important things, treating him and Kokichi with equal care.

Regardless, any headway Shuichi was making ended there, but the tingly feeling he assumed was triumph lasted through the rest of the day.


	6. Chapter 6

Ever since Shuichi had asked his mother for the script, he’d found himself subject to a lot more attention from his parents than he was used to.

He was now somehow on the phone with them every night, sitting through their bombardment of words over the speaker as he tried to get his homework done. He’d love to tell them to stuff it and just hang up, but he couldn’t do that. They were his _parents_.

Bottling it all up became more and more difficult as they called more and more frequently though. They called asking about all sorts of things like costumes and music and so on, but as an actor and Kirumi’s assistant, he couldn’t answer them. Nor did he want to for fear of encouraging them further. But then they began calling at the most inopportune times: they’d called thrice during classes, once while he was trying to eat breakfast, countless more times while he was asleep. Times when he really didn’t need to be disturbed. 

He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to put up with it. 

They didn’t bother checking when he could talk: it was too much work, especially considering he was in a different time zone. His schedule didn’t matter to them. If they called during a rehearsal though, the one part of his life they cared about, he thought he might finally lose it.

“Maybe we should talk to Kirumi about this bit,” Kokichi suggested during one of their line reading sessions after the main rehearsal. “I dunno, it just feels awkward. Not to insult your mother or anything.”

Shuichi shrugged. “I don’t particularly care about that. But I agree,” he said, skimming over the stage directions. “What if, instead of Rantarou telling us about the attempted assassinations, there’s an actual attack? We don’t see Maki or anything, but like, an arrow flies onstage, or Miu could rig a gunshot sound? I’m sure Kirumi could make it work and it would be less… um…”

“Static?”

“Precisely.” Shuichi smiled at the other. “It may stress everyone a little, but it’ll probably be worth it.”

Kokichi shrugged, flipping through the scene. “It may be a bit much effort for something so insignificant though. I mean… the public isn’t even admitted on day two of the festival, so it doesn’t need to be good.” He looked up and met Shuichi’s eyes, smirk plastered across his face. “But it would be funny to see everyone panic.”

Shaking his head, Shuichi closed the script. “I get that this whole is thing is dumb and worthless, but it’s kinda fun. Don’t you think?”

They stared at each other for a moment, Kokichi doing mental gymnastics in his decision on how to react. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he admitted quietly. “I at least like hanging out with you.”

A sense of pride radiated from within Shuichi, but he did his damnedest to hide it, not willing to allow Kokichi the satisfaction.

But then Shuichi’s phone rang.

He looked over to where he’d discarded it with his bag. There were only two people who ever called him.

He felt something snap. He slammed the script to the floor and stormed over to wrench his phone off the desk.

“Are you _kidding me,_ ” he hissed into the receiver, his tone so potently venomous that he was practically spitting poison. “Are you so intent on annoying me that you’d interrupt the one thing in my life you’ve _ever_ given a damn about?” Shuichi was all too conscious of Kokichi now staring at his back, utterly dumbfounded, but he couldn’t care less for the anger blurring his vision.

The angry fog dissipated the instant a voice that definitely did _not_ belong to either of his parents responded.

“ _Easy tiger,”_ the gruff, amused voice of his uncle came through the receiver.

“O-oh god, Isoshi! I’m so sorry. I thought… well I didn’t think, I never expected…” he scrambled for words, prepared to spew excuses and ‘I’m sorry’s, but it took nothing else for his uncle to forgive him.

_“Keisuke been bothering you has he?”_

“Just a bit.”

He laughed boisterously, always happy to take pleasure in his brother’s failures. _“Typical. That aside though, sounds like I’m disturbing something?”_

Shuichi sighed and slumped forward against the desk, holding himself up with his free arm, head dropping so his chin met his chest. “Yeah, I’m a little busy,” he confessed.” But erm, what’s wrong? I don’t think you’ve called this number in, what? Three years?”

Isoshi’s dismissive grunt crackled over the line. _“Last resort in trying to contact you. My emails have received no answer and you haven’t been home since term started. Honoka’s been worried._ ”

Guilt washed over Shuichi. Between rehearsals, dealing with his parents, maintaining his social life and trying to figure out Kokichi, he’d forgotten to send a ‘hello’ home. He explained and apologised before agreeing to go back for the weekend.

When he said goodbye and turned back to Kokichi, the air was charged with an awkwardness so palpable you could have cut it in half.

“I, um… Sorry about that.” He made his way back to his seat, stiff and tense. “Where were we?”

“I think we should break for day,” Kokichi stated, face screwed up on what was unmistakably concern.

“But… didn’t you want to-”

“You don’t look up to. Bit stressed, perhaps?”

“I’m fine, really,” Shuichi tried to assure him, reaching down for his script but missing as Kokichi scooped it up and threw it out of reach. “What was that for?”

Kokichi shook his head. “You need to rest or… something. I dunno whatever people do when they’re stressed.” He paused to put his own script in his lap, fiddling with the corner. He looked uncomfortable and Shuichi began feeling guilty again, this time for ruining what had been a pleasant atmosphere.

But then Kokichi spoke up again. “I knew you had an issue with your parents, but I didn’t know you hated them quite that much. I mean, I never thought you were capable of being so… terrifying.”

Shuichi let out a long breath and pulled one of his feet up onto the chair. “Sorry if I startled you or something…” he said, leaning back and pulling at the fraying seems of his uniform trouser leg. “I don’t hate my parents though. They just… they’ve just been bugging me lately.”

“I know.” Kokichi looked up. “You said so a while back. But that didn’t look like someone being bugged. Didn’t sound like it either…” He shrugged and looked out of the window at the blossoming sunset. “You don’t have to talk about it, I know  _I_ wouldn’t.”

“But you don’t talk about _anything_ personal,” Shuichi pointed out, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I should know.”

Silence blanketed the room as Shuichi let his last statement hang. He let the whole thing rattle about in his head for a while, surprised at himself for acting in such a way. But at the same time, he couldn’t see what was wrong with what he’d done.

“But is it so unreasonable?” he wondered aloud, brow furrowing. “They dump me on my aunt and uncle, don’t visit for more than a decade, then think they can worm their way back into my life now that it suits _them?_ ” He gesticulated formlessly in his frustration before letting his arms fall to his sides. “I just… I wish they’d leave me alone, y’know? Is that too much to ask?”

He tried to reason with himself, tried to sort through everything. They were being selfish and disregarding his needs. But they were his parents and he cared for them at least a little bit. But that didn’t give them free reign to do as they liked. And still they only wanted what they believed was best for him, even if it was wrong. He just kept circling between arguments, unable to land on a firm conclusion.

“I wouldn’t say so.”

Shuichi’s head snapped up to look at Kokichi, whose gaze was still trained on the window.

“Really?”

Kokichi glanced over to Shuichi and nodded. “Well yeah. What sane person wouldn’t? I don’t know the whole story, but what have they done to earn the right? Who cares if they’re your parents, that doesn’t mean they can insert themselves into a life they weren't involved with in the first place.”

Having it told to him so bluntly was… it was nice. Having an opinion so devoid of his own hang ups was welcome and comforting.

“You think?”

Kokichi rolled his eyes. “ _No,_ that whole thing was a lie.” He turned to meet Shuichi’s eyes then. “If you don’t like them, the last thing you should feel is guilty.”

A grateful smile split Shuichi’s face, tension and anger evaporating, leaving only a sense of light-heartedness in their wake. “Thank you.”

“For what, stating the obvious?” Kokichi seemed to notice the difference in Shuichi’s manner and seized an opportunity. “How old were you?”

Shuichi cocked his head to the side.

“When they left you with your uncle.”

“Oh, that. I’m pretty sure I was six. Maybe a little younger. They went off to America for work. Honoka, my aunt, she tried to convince them not to go because Hollywood was no place for a child, but they just gave me to her instead.” He chuckled. “It sounds pretty awful, but she was thrilled. She’s infertile so it sorta worked out for everyone. I just wish they wouldn’t try to reinsert themselves, y’know” He shrugged. “What can you do?”

Kokichi shifted, moving his hands to grip the edge of his seat. “Why don’t you just block their numbers or something.”

Shuichi snorted loudly, hand coming up to smack against his mouth. “Oh, you’re kidding, that would never work. They’d get on a plane and come find me before took the hint. They keep asking when the show is, so they can come see. I’d sooner throw myself off a cliff.” He shook his head and sighed. “I just hope this whole thing ends with the play. As much as I enjoy this thing, it’s kinda making my life hell.”

“Fingers crossed,” Kokichi agreed, holding up his own crossed fingers.

Shuichi smiled and mimicked him. “Yeah, fingers crossed.”

Kokichi then stood up and leapt over to Shuichi, grabbing his arms and pulling him to his feet. “Come on, I’m bored. Lets go get some coffee or something.”

“You hate coffee,” Shuichi pointed out, allowing himself to be pulled up.

“That’s not true! I love coffee!” Kokichi protested. “I only drink coffee that’s as black as your soul! The more bitter the better and all that.”

Shuichi laughed at the obvious lie. “Fine, but I’m holding you to that. And you’re paying.”

“If you’re forcing me to drink that disgusting crap, you’d better believe you’re paying for it!”

Shuichi left that classroom feeling much better than when he entered it, and a little excited at the prospect of getting to mess with Kokichi for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Kokichi drank the coffee for Shuichi. And he hated every second of it.


	7. Chapter 7

It had long become apparent that Kokichi was no longer getting anything out of their private post-rehearsal line readings.

They’d been doing as Shuichi had suggested since week one and it had worked a treat. But now, it had gotten to the point where they both knew all of their lines and couldn’t do anything productive without the other actors or Kirumi present. Obviously, there were scenes with only the two of them, but you could only rehearse the same three scenes so many times.

It didn’t take long for Kokichi to get bored and pull his phone out or try to take them off topic. He’d even pulled his homework out once.

In the end, Kokichi just broke down and confronted Shuichi about it.

“Why are we doing this anymore?” he asked one afternoon, browsing his phone as usual. “We know all our lines. I mean, I could recite the entire script on my own at this point, stage directions and all.” He huffed and put his phone down. “It’s all kind of pointless.”

Shuichi could have done the exact same, but he’d never mentioned it. In fact, this was a conversation he’d been dreading. He wasn’t there to learn his lines anymore, he was just having fun. He’d never made any sort of effort to keep their conversations on track, outside of making Kokichi think that was why here was there.

At this point, he just wanted to spend time with Kokichi without… well spending time with him. It was an excuse. A productive excuse, an excuse that allowed him to ignore his parents, but an excuse nonetheless.

“But… we’ll forget if we don’t keep going over them,” he argued, not believing Kokichi would settle with that for a second.

“We rehearse with the others every day, Shuichi. I’m not about to forget my lines because I don’t spend two extra hours practising them.” He flicked a stray paperclip across the desk. “I’m just so _bored_.”

Shuichi felt a rock drop into his stomach. Did he _bore_ Kokichi? He’d thought that Kokichi enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed his. But if that was the case, then what possible excuse could he find to keep this friendship ignited?

He racked his brain for anything, _anything_ that he could say to salvage the situation but came up empty. “Well, um…” he muttered, dejected despite his best efforts to appear otherwise. “I guess we could stop then. My homework _has_ been neglected recently. And I have some stuff I need to do for Kirumi.” He reached for his bag to stuff his script back into it, resigning himself to walking back to his dorm alone.

“Dear _God,_ Shuichi,” the other said, somewhere between exasperated and flustered. “You look like a kicked puppy. I didn’t think you wanted to be around me _that_ much.”

Shuichi didn’t say anything but felt his face heat up, fighting tooth and nail to keep the blush down. “I never said that.”

“I-I know, I know. I was only teasing. But in all seriousness, this is so _dull_. Why can’t we do something else?”

So Kokichi _did_ want to spend time with him. Shuichi felt a surge of relief crash over him, more so than he suspected was warranted, but right then he was more preoccupied thinking of something to do. He still didn’t know what Kokichi did with his time outside of school.

“What do you _want_ to do?” Shuichi asked, sitting up and kicking his bag back under the desk.

All of a sudden, Kokichi looked excited. He leapt from his chair, skipped over to their homeroom teacher’s storage cupboard and started rummaging through it.

Soon enough, he came frolicking back with a smart wooden box in his hands.

“Chess?” Shuichi read off of the box, surprised. “You want to play chess?”

“Yeah!” Kokichi nodded enthusiastically, opening up the box and laying the board and pieces out before Shuichi had agreed. “You’re supposed to be smart, so you should be good at this, right? All smart people play chess.”

Shuichi shook his head and lined his chair up straight with the desk. “Not really. I know plenty of intelligent people who don’t and plenty of rather dim people who do.”

While Shuichi had thought that would amuse the other, he just looked a bit put out. “So you _aren’t_ any good at chess?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Good!” Kokichi put the last two pawns in place before turning the board so the white pieces sat in front of himself. “I bet I could beat you at this while reciting the script word for word!”

“Sure,” Shuichi agreed, chuckling. “But I warn you, I was trained by a national chess champion.”

Kokichi looked up at him, eyebrows raised in curious surprise. “Really? Is it your aunt or your uncle?”

Shuichi didn’t respond immediately, mouth hanging open in shock. “N-no, I, err… That was a lie.”

“What?” Kokichi’s expression was now mirroring Shuichi’s. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Not at all.” He started laughing, realising the implication of it all. “I can’t tell whether _you’re_ messing with _me_.”

But Kokichi didn’t drop the incredulous expression, continuing to stare at Shuichi wide-eyed. “I think you’re spending too much time around me.”

Shuichi shrugged, trying to subdue his laughter. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Kokichi’s eyes dropped then, pouting and leaning back in his chair. “I guess that’s up you.” It was highly amusing to see the pink hue Kokichi’s face had taken in what Shuichi assumed was frustration. He _had_ possibly just been beaten at his own game.

“Aren’t you supposed to reciting the script?”

In response, all Kokichi did was pull his chair around to face Shuichi and move his first piece. “Curtain rises. The Prince, flanked by two Guards, sits in a small but luxurious throne. After the music goes silent, the Master of the Household enters.”

Shuichi chuckled and thought about his own first move.

In the end Kokichi did win, although it took him until halfway through his second recital of the play to eventually reach checkmate.

“Wow Shuichi, you were such a disappointing opponent!” he whined as they packed away the chess set. “I thought you’d at least pose somewhat of a challenge.”

“We were playing for over an hour and a half,” Shuichi pointed out, dumping the white pieces he’d taken back into the box, which were decent in number. “I think I played reasonably well.”

“Not well enough for me to believe you were trained by a champion.”

“But I wasn’t.”

Kokichi just grinned and snickered. “I know.” He pushed the lid of the box until it fell shut with a loud smack of wood against wood. “Maybe we should play something easier like Shogi or Go next time.” Shuichi had played both in the past and knew that were harder than chess, but just nodded along.

“Sure but I don’t have a Shogi set. Or a Go set.”

“Munakata-sensei might. And I’m sure Kiyo does. He’d probably be weird enough to own _both_. I’ll ask him, we know how much he loves me.”

Shuichi shook his head, knowing very well what would happen if he let Kokichi talk to Kiyo alone. Shuichi would just ask Kiyo over dinner.

“Oh!” Shuichi quickly looked down at his phone to check the time. “Dinner will have been served by now.”

“ _That’s_ why my stomach is rumbling. You shouldn’t have let me go so easy on you Shuichi or we would be on time. This is all your fault!”

“Whatever,” Shuichi conceded. He stood up and, after picking up his back, put the box away, leaving Kokichi to pack his own stuff up. Once done, he made his way over to the door, where he paused and turned back around. “You coming?”

Kokichi slung his bag over his shoulder but didn’t move away from the desk. “Only if you let me sit with you.”

“If I have to,” Shuichi sighed in mock annoyance.

The other skipped over and stopped when he was level with Shuichi to flick his forehead. “You’re not gonna fool me _that_ easily,” he sang before stepping out into the hall. “You’ve revealed your true nature to me, so I’m on high alert now! I swear it, you’ll never get a lie past me again!”

Shuichi didn’t doubt it for a second. If he was honest, he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he had before: if Kokichi didn’t want him to know either way, he wouldn’t. But maybe he could allow this one victory, real or not. “Just move, I’m hungry.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Tsumugi finally announced that the costumes were made, everyone started to get excited. After so long, the whole thing was coming together. It was no longer just an idea, but a tangible event.

Angie had almost finished the props and the stage crew had been taping out where they’d go. Kaede had mentioned that not only was she finishing up the composition, but that she’d convinced some of her fellow Ultimate musicians to form a small stage band. Miu had long rigged up the lighting and sound and the actors could run through the whole play with minimal assistance.

Somehow the school festival was achieving its goal: by some miracle the class was being brought together. People who didn’t like each other much were getting along, and everyone could work together without issue. Even Kokichi had made friends outside of Shuichi, and he was showing a lot more discretion in making comments he would have otherwise made without batting an eye.

Still, production from the costume team was the one thing no one but Kirumi  had had any knowledge about, as Tsumugi and Kiyo been unnecessarily mum about the development. So, this announcement was what finally tipped the class into confidence. Or panic and paranoia. Like Tsumugi.

“I did a fitting yesterday though?” Shuichi said, a little confused when Tsumugi disturbed him and Kokichi playing cards. “You said we were done.”

“Well, yes,” Tsumugi agreed, standing awkwardly in the classroom door. “But I finished the adjustments and I’d like you to see if it’s comfortable and secure. We wouldn’t want any costume malfunctions during the show.” She chuckled and picked at the paint flaking on the doorframe. “But I need Kokichi anyway. He hasn’t tried his on yet.” She pushed her glasses up and fiddled with her hair. “It can wait, but you two didn’t look especially busy.”

Kokichi scoffed. “Excuse you, we’re rehearsing _so_ hard right now!” He gestured to the cards in front of him. “See! How could you ever say we’re not busy!?”

Shuichi struggled to hold back his laughter. “It’s okay, we’ll come.” He stood and grabbed Kokichi’s arm, pulling him out of the room.

“Thank goodness.” She stepped back out into the hallway and beckoned them to follow her. “Now that the costumes are done, I’m just plain worried they’re going to fall apart or something” She laughed a little hysterically. “If something happens to embarrass any of you it be all my fault!”

“Isn’t this, like, your job?” Kokichi asked sardonically. “If you can’t do something like _this_ , how can you call yourself the Ultimate Cosplayer?”

Shuichi bat his arm. “Don’t say that.”

“No, no, he’s right,” Tsumugi insisted. “I do this all the time. I’ve made countless outfits for myself and clients, this shouldn’t be difficult at all. Only… you lot are my friends so it’s all just plain scary to think what might happen if I mess up.” She shook her head as she started descending the stairs leading to Hope Peak’s drama and arts department. “I think the costumes are okay though, at least Kiyo keeps saying I should be happy with them. I think I’m annoying him with all the changes.”

“Won’t making too many changes potentially make the costumes more fragile though?” Shuichi pointed out. “Too many details and it’s bound to break sooner.”

Tsumugi sighed. “I know, I know.” She made a beeline towards one of the nearer doors after hopping off of the last step. “Kiyo had to catch up on work by the way, so it’s just the three of us,” she explained, holding the door open. Kokichi and Shuichi followed her in.

The rolls upon rolls of cloth that were normally neatly organised had been pulled out. Some were empty, others leaning against random tables; very few were where they should be. The tables were covered in a blanket of loose threads, the two sewing machines buried in amongst the mess. One of the tables had a number of power tools sat on it, probably smuggled over from the workshop where Tsumugi spent a lot of her time.

Shuichi wouldn’t have been too bothered by the mess if he wasn’t so worried about random pins and needles likely spread across the room. He did not want to stand on anything unfortunate. And by unfortunate he meant something that would send him to the hospital.

Thankfully, Tsumugi bypassed the bombsite entirely and led them into a changing room off to the side.

She started rummaging through one of the clothing racks lined up against the far wall and pulled two costumes off. “Right,” she began, turning to hand them to the boys. “If you get dressed, I’ll be waiting next door. Call me in when you’re ready.”

***

“I feel like I’m going to overheat in this thing,” Kokichi was saying a few minutes later as they got dressed. “How can there be so much of a single item of clothing?”

Shuichi, now fully dressed, turned around to see what Kokichi was complaining about. He was pulling at a large, ominous looking scarf, similar to one he saw one of his upperclassmen wearing, but a lot thicker. He certainly looked over-encumbered. “Maybe you should tell Tsumugi.”

“I _will_.” He struggled with it a bit more before muttering “I hope she didn’t spend too much time on it.”

Smiling, Shuichi shook his head. “She’d be more upset if you lied about liking it.”

Kokichi shrugged. “You’re probably right.” He gave up then, letting his hands fall to his sides, the fabric of his cloak fluttering around his arms. “But you look rather dashing, don’t you Shuichi?” He said coyly. “If only I looked half as good as you do.” He sighed in mock longing.

Shuichi’s face went beet red, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, firing out rapid disagreements. He’d never been able to take a compliment.

“Are you two done yet?” Tsumugi called, voice muffled through the wall.

“Yep!” Kokichi responded, skipping over to open the door in his bare feet, a costume choice Tsumugi had made deliberately.

She walked in and frowned the instant she caught sight of Kokichi buried in amongst the fabric. “I knew that scarf was too big,” she grumbled, grabbing at and correcting its position. “Kiyo said he didn’t see a problem… I guess we both overestimated your size.”

“How rude!” Kokichi cried. “I’m not short, you’re short!”

Shuichi didn’t believe for a second that Kokichi was offended, but it was amusing to see Tsumugi panic. While Shuichi didn’t experience schadenfreude to the extent that Kokichi did, he still found it funny to watch people who didn’t understand Kokichi get confused over his behaviour.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it like that,” Tsumugi apologised, briefly retracting her hands, but quickly trying to get back on topic. “But does it fit well? Or is it big or tight or…?”

Kokichi looked down at himself for a moment and swished his arms about. “The tunic’s a bit loose… and this thing’s huge,” he said, pulling the large hood hanging down his back over his head, letting it fall into his face.

“The cloak is meant to be big,” she explained, helping him pull it off. “I thought it would look more mysterious. Surely a charlatan fortune teller would go for over the top?” She folded it over her arm and placed it aside, moving on to inspect the tunic, a lot more basic than the fancily embroidered cloak and scarf. She knelt down to pull at the fabric, bunching it up at the seams so it fit tighter.

After the inspection, she pulled out a large box of sewing pins she’d brought in. As she did though, she saw Shuichi leaning against the wall, just watching with little else to do. “Oh, Shuichi! I’ll try to be quick, okay?”

“No, no, it’s fine. We aren’t in a hurry or anything.”

Tsumugi smiled and began her work.

When she said she’d be quick, she was not kidding. Tsumugi had apparently been doing this for so long, it was all second nature. It had barely occurred to Shuichi to pull his phone out instead of just standing around like a wet lemon before she’d finished.

“Does that feel alright or is it too snug?”

“It feels like you’ve been pricking my waist with needles for a minute,” he complained cheekily. “ _But_ …” he continued when Tsumugi’s face drenched in panic. “I think it fits. And the needles didn’t hurt.”

“That’s a relief. I would have felt just plain awful if I’d hurt you.” She lifted his arms up to further assess her handiwork before standing back and nodding to herself. “Let’s get you out of that. If you hang around for ten minutes, it won’t take long to fix.”

Shuichi could tell where this was going from miles away and quickly acted on the idea to bury his nose into his phone. Just as he did, Tsumugi had started to carefully lift the tunic in such a way as to avoid Kokichi getting hurt.

“Right, Shuichi!” Tsumugi called, causing him to jump and tense. “Let’s take a quick look at your costume so I can make any adjustments at the same time.”

He gripped his phone ever so slightly tighter as he looked up, focusing on Tsumugi. “Y-yeah, sure,” he agreed, standing straight and awaiting inspection.

“Do you think it’s comfortable? The trousers look a little short.”

Shuichi was glad for an excuse to look down. He agreed that the ends were flapping around his ankles and nodded. “The coat feels alright though. I assume I can just wear a t-shirt beneath it.” He had his uniform shirt on underneath and it wasn’t particularly comfortable, but he figured that was easily fixed.

“Yes, of course.” Tsumugi assured him, pulling him away from the wall and circling him. “Would you mind lifting your head?”

Reluctantly, Shuichi looked up, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall opposite him, not that his peripheral didn’t betray him. He could still see the very pale form of Kokichi’s torso in the corner of his eye.

It wasn’t that Shuichi was uncomfortable with nakedness, he could handle swimming pools and changing rooms and the like. Hell, he’d spent a lot of time with Rantarou and Kaito over the summer and those two had no issue with throwing their shirts off if they got a bit too hot. Shuichi had been fine with that.

It was the fact that it was Kokichi.

He couldn’t quite understand why that was a problem. He was fine when they changed for gym and curricular swimming lessons back in July, but now it felt… wrong, he supposed. Not in a bad way, more like it was a gross invasion of privacy. Like it was a bit too intimate for what was appropriate. The reasoning behind this was beyond Shuichi, but that was how it was.

Unfortunately, this inexplicable awkwardness wasn’t lost on Kokichi.

Kokichi seemed at complete ease in his state of undress and quite deliberately waltzed up next to Tsumugi, standing directly in Shuichi’s line of sight.

Face flushing pink, Shuichi averted his eyes.

“Well, everything else looks to be in order. If you take those off, I’ll get them done too. I’d say we only need an extra inch or so, yeah?”

Shuichi nodded stiffly before skirting away so he could remove the, one might say, more _delicate_ article of clothing. It wasn’t until Shuichi was stood sheepishly in his boxers that he realised the redundancy of putting his uniform back on for ten minutes and that, because of it, he was going to be hanging around half-undressed.

He held the trousers out for Tsumugi, who didn’t look fazed in the _slightest_ , although Shuichi guessed it must come with the territory. She took them and hurried back into the textiles room, the clunking of a sewing machine starting up only moments after the door shut behind her. The boys, however, were stuck in the changing room with nothing much to do.

Shuichi decided to curl up against the wall, resuming his phone perusal, fiddling with it as a way of keeping his attention off of more sensitive things. Kokichi on the other hand, hand different ideas.

It took all of about ten seconds for Kokichi to plonk himself down right next to Shuichi, as close as he could get without them touching. “Is something wrong Shuichi?” he asked. “You don’t look too hot, maybe you have a fever?”

“You know full well that I’m not ill,” Shuichi snapped, harsher than he’d meant it.

“Well, if that’s really the case,” Kokichi continued, undeterred by Shuichi’s terseness, “then why is your face so red? That looks like a classic fever symptom to me.” Shuichi rolled his eyes and inched away, but Kokichi just moved up with him. “Or does naked flesh just make you uncomfortable?”

“Not especially.”

Kokichi hummed loudly in thought. “Then maybe it’s just me? Does the sight of me repulse you that much?” he asked, the whininess in his tone belying a warning of waterworks. “D-do you really think I’m _ugly_? This is no way to maintain a healthy relationship Shuichi!” He latched onto Shuichi’s arm, squeezing in a show of sad desperation, crocodile tears welling in his eyes. “You can’t keep these things from me.”

“That’s not it!” Shuichi exclaimed, now _very_ flustered and _very_ red. “I don’t think… I don’t think you’re ugly.”

“Yes you do!” Kokichi accused him, shaking his arm so that his whole body moved with it. “You won’t even look at me!”

Shuichi forced himself to confront Kokichi, turning until he was looking directly at him. “I…” He gulped when he got almost too much of an eyeful. “I don’t… I really don’t think you’re ugly.”

He wasn’t lying. Kokichi’s torso was extremely pale and he was so thin you could count each of his ribs without difficulty. But he wasn’t scrawny or grotesque by any means. Kokichi may have been far from conventionally attractive, but Shuichi knew that the churning in his stomach wasn’t from revulsion.

“Then why are you so uncomfortable?” Kokichi demanded, pouting and pushing himself up against Shuichi as much as he could. That really wasn’t helping matters.

Shuichi shook his head and looked away again. “Don’t you think it’s a bit… indecent?” he asked, crossing his bare legs and pulling them up to his chest with his free arm. “Like I’m intruding into your privacy or something?”

Kokichi blinked dumbly. After a moment though, he released Shuichi’s arm and started crawling over to the other side of the room. “God Shuichi,” he said over his shoulder, reaching out to his shirt. “You’re such a prude, y’know that?” He pulled his arms through the sleeves before making his way back. This time he didn’t sit so close. “Better?”

This change in developments put Shuichi at instant ease. “Much, thank you,” he said, grateful..

Kokichi pointedly looked away. “You’re too respectful sometimes,” he mumbled, hands bunching up in the fabric of his shirt.

Shrugging, Shuichi placed his phone screen down on the carpeted floor. “Maybe. But what else would I have if I wasn’t too polite and socially awkward?”

“A lot?” Kokichi scoffed, looking at him as if he was stupid. “Your intelligence, generosity, diligence? Your handsome face? Your weird ability to read eight Poirot novels in one night? Your insatiable and frankly annoying lust for tying up all conceivable loose ends?”

“I still wouldn’t have my trousers, though,” Shuichi pointed out, somehow even more red in the face than earlier.

Kokichi snorted loudly.

“I’m done!” Tsumugi announced, barging her way into the changing room. “Let’s see if this is any better.”

Shuichi scrambled to his feet, glad for something to put back on his legs. The readjustments turned out to be perfect, as was expected of the Ultimate Cosplayer, and both boys were walking out of the textiles room five minutes later.

“What now?” Shuichi asked, sliding the door shut behind him. “It’s not that late yet.”

“I seem to recall that I haven’t beaten your arse at Canasta yet,” Kokichi reminded him with a sly grin.

“But wasn’t I winning?”

“For now.”


	9. Chapter 9

With only days before the cultural festival, Tsumugi wasn’t the only one panicking anymore.

Most people were on edge, working on something play related during breaks, during lessons, after school, over meals, in the middle of the night and so on. Kaede in particular could be seen fretting over her meticulously put together folder of sheet music, a pencil in hand, editing, humming music under her breath. Approaching her was a dangerous task, you couldn’t say a word to her without her blowing up.

The props were all finished and ready to go and the theatre was rigged to perfection. Tsumugi and Kiyo had announced that the costumes were fit for use and all the actors knew their lines. But still, no one could find it in them to relax.

Well, aside from Kirumi, who at least appeared to have everything under control. Shuichi could attest to the fact that she was, in fact, a mess, but wasn’t about to tell anyone.

Shuichi himself was proud to say he wasn’t nearly as panicked as everyone else. He’d been confident for a while and it showed.

He delivered his lines without flaw, portrayed every emotion to his highest standards and could move around the stage without tripping over his own feet. He’d even stopped feeling like he was poorly impersonating someone much more important than himself every time he donned the costume. He was comfortable.

Although he had to attribute a lot of that to Kokichi.

The boy had been nothing but supportive. At least to Shuichi, that couldn’t be said for the rest of the class. Shuichi didn’t understand why, but he felt that as long as it was Kokichi he was acting alongside, he could say anything in front of anyone, even the crowd that would be watching them. Kokichi made him feel secure and steady, like he wasn’t preparing for a role that put him so far out of his comfort zone he was on mars.

With Kokichi acting alongside him, he could bare lines that made him look like a fool. He could breeze his way through absurd and inappropriately risqué scenes that sent their classmates into hysterics. He could pull of the most serious moments that required every bit of his concentration to make convincing. He could even get through the romantic climax without batting an eye.

“Get down!” Kokichi yelled, pushing Shuichi to the stage as Miu played a gunshot over the speakers. The other actors all hit the floor as well, arms over their heads. Then Rantarou leapt to his feet and sped off stage, Tenko and Himiko in tow, in pursuit of the assassin, Maki, leaving Shuichi and Kokichi alone on stage.

Shuichi pushed himself up on his elbows and stared at Kokichi, face composed into shock and, he hoped, adoration. His character was in love with Kokichi’s at that point after all. “You…” he said, almost a whisper, knowing it would be picked up by the microphone.

Scrambling off of Shuichi, Kokichi looked horrified, pulling off the emotion with the effortless perfection Shuichi had come to expect from his co-star. “My Prince, I… Please, excuse my actions. A hundred apologies for treating you so! Just-”

“You saved my life,” Shuichi breathed. “You pushed me aside at risk to yourself, whyever would you apologise?” He assumed a gentle smile, getting to his feet and extending a hand down to Kokichi who, in accordance with the script, hesitated before accepting it. “But dearest Seer,” Shuichi continued as he pulled him up. “Why would you put your life before mine?”

“You are my Prince! The future ruler of the land I live in, why wouldn’t I?”

Shuichi chuckled, pleased with how natural it sounded. “Because I know how little you respect authority. Why should a charlatan such as yourself ever throw himself in danger for the sake of one who oppresses him?”

Despite having seen it countless times in countless rehearsals, Shuichi couldn’t help finding the panicked expression Kokichi pulled at this moment cute. It was meant to be. It was a young man, caught in and exposed for his lies by the person he loved, expressing his frustration, fear and embarrassment. It was the sort of expression one pictured when reading a mushy romance novel. And Kokichi looked so convincing, Shuichi could have easily believed it to be real if he’d seen it out of context.

“M-my Prince I…” Kokichi stumbled over his words, his character not knowing what to say to get out of the mess. Then he sighed, deciding on the truth, before reciting the words he’d long memorised. “I beg you pardon my audacity but… if you demand my honesty, it is simply that I should sooner be ripped limb from limb in hell than see a single scratch blight your porcelain skin.”

While Shuichi disliked being positive about his parents on principle, it was hard to ignore the way his mother’s words made his heart clench.

“It has been so long since I could stand the thought of taking advantage of you; so long that I can barely remember it. I can barely remember a moment that went by where I haven’t regretted tricking you into my confidence, regretted placing you in the way of danger for my own selfish desires. I can’t remember a time before my heart flutters at the sight of your smile, the lilt in your laughter, the feeling of your gaze upon me.”

The more Shuichi thought about it though, the more he felt that he couldn’t credit all of this emotion to his mother. The words themselves were clichéd, and kind of schlocky, sweet but very basic. He couldn’t help but feel that a lot of it could be chalked up to the other’s performance. The way Kokichi said it, almost made him feel like the moment was real.

“So again, I beg that you forgive me such insolence as to feel this way for someone I could never deserve such affection from. But know that I speak all of this in candour; I could never lie about my love for you.”

The way Kokichi said it, Shuichi almost _wanted_ it to be real.

As, according to the script, he scooped Kokichi into a tight embrace, Shuichi realised something rather worrisome. He realised that, instead of the hug then, he’d much prefer it if they adhered to the original script. He realised that he _did_ want those words to be real.

He realised that he had fallen for Kokichi.

The way Shuichi managed the continue with the scene as if he wasn’t having a mental breakdown would go down as the second most impressive thing he’d ever do.  It was a credit to his own acting talent that he managed to play the whole scene off just as perfectly as every other time he’d done it. How he was able to recite his lines of overwhelming affection without breaking into a blush or stuttering or even forgetting what he was meant to say.

He was almost sure he’d been able to fool Kokichi too, as he made no indication of noticing anything wrong.

After getting off the stage and out of his suddenly uncomfortable and stiff costume, instead of hanging back to congratulate everyone on another great rehearsal, he sped back to the dormitories. He didn’t come out all night either, his missing appetite made it easy to forego dinner.

As if he could have eaten at a time like that.

Not when he’d just realised he was in love with Kokichi Ouma.


	10. Chapter 10

The festival had come around faster than anyone had liked.

Not only had their class been preparing for the play, but many of them had been setting up displays and portfolios to show off on the first day, demonstrating their talents to the general public. As the cultural festival was a brilliant opportunity to gain the attention of investors or otherwise build a reputation, many students with talents suited to exhibits were working day and night to make them perfect.

Shuichi was very glad he wasn’t one of those people, because in the final days before the festival he’d been an utter mess.

He couldn’t go two seconds without being reminded of his newly realised feelings. And now that he was aware of them, they were much harder to hide.

By nature, Shuichi was a quiet and almost secretive person: he didn’t overshare if he could help it, he listened instead of speaking, he preferred to observe than participate, he was good at keeping a neutral face. But those were subconscious traits because, unless he was onstage with a script in hand, he was dreadful at hiding emotions he was aware of.

And it didn’t help that, in light of everyone else becoming very busy, Kokichi had taken to spending almost every second he could with Shuichi.

At this point, Shuichi couldn’t tell if Kokichi was doing it on purpose, thinking it funny to watch Shuichi squirm as he failed at hiding his feelings. Or maybe he was genuinely oblivious. Shuichi wanted to say the latter, believing Kokichi to be a better friend than to do something so unkind. But it was hard to think that when he knew he was awful at handling the whole matter.

Regardless, by some miracle, Shuichi survived until the Saturday rolled around.

The school was lively and bright, full of frantic students and excited visitors; it wasn’t every day you got to visit one of the most prestigious schools in the world after all.

All kinds of stands were lined up in neat rows in the sports field, selling food and wares prepared by the students. The school halls were crowded and noisy as visitors moved between the classrooms, each filled with different exhibits prepared by some of the most talented teenagers the world had to offer. The sounds of speeches and performances rang through the school from the gymnasium as different people took to the stage and entertained the crowds.

It was all rather overwhelming, but Shuichi managed to take all of it in stride. He had to support his friends after all.

But Kokichi had decided they should support them together.

Not having any sort of exhibition or stand of his own, Kokichi had claimed to be bored and that ‘the only cure to this excruciating boredom is to spend it with my beloved detective!’. The word ‘beloved’ alone had sent Shuichi into silent hysterics, not to mention the way Kokichi had felt the need to drape himself over Shuichi as he said it.

So, Shuichi spent the day acting as Kokihci’s damage control, leading them to each of their friends’ displays and then apologising for anything he may do and have done that no one had noticed yet. All the while, he had to do his best to remain calm, ignoring the way his stomach lurched each time Kokichi’s shoulder bumped into his as they meandered through the halls side by side, or when he’d grab Shuichi’s hand and drag him into another room.

But the sun began to set in the mid-afternoon as November brought darkness with it, and that was when one could truly appreciate the brilliance of Hope’s Peak Academy. The intricate light displays came up and new, different forms of entertainment started. A fancy restaurant run by the students with culinary talents, headed by the Ultimate Chef, opening in the cafeteria, the room completely remodelled with live music playing from the corner.

Kokichi had tried to drag him in there but, aside from the fact that he didn’t know how well he’d cope on what would essentially be a date, Shuichi knew he’d be rendered broke after ordering a glass of water.

They hung about to listen to music outside and cheered on Kaede when she took stage. They had a look through the evening art displays, figuring out which ones were Angie’s and admiring how different they looked in the night lighting. Shuichi had to wrestle Kokichi away from Himiko’s show, afraid that he’d heckle her the whole time, no matter how much he promised to the contrary.

At some point though, they found themselves wandering around, fresh street food in hand, going through their lines as a last-minute practise. This, Shuichi was thankful for. He always felt comfortable working through the script – he couldn’t be held accountable for anything said in it.

Unfortunately, that didn’t go quite as planned.

“My Prince, I really must impress this upon you, but I fear that you may no longer require my services. That it would be better for you to go ahead without my advice hindering your duties.”

“Do not be so silly. I couldn’t… um,” Shuichi paused, trying to remember the line. He was usually so good at this, the lines would come easier than regular conversation. Watching the cute way the Yakisoba noodles slapped Kokichi’s face as he slurped them was proving to be a little too distracting though. “Oh, right. I wouldn’t let you go, there is no need to fret.” He paused again, searching for the words, focussing more on Kokichi scrubbing his mouth with his sleeve. “Err… I can’t… I-I  _ don’t _ understand why you should ever consider it a possibility. Your services are far too precious to me.”

Kokichi glanced at him before reciting his own line. “It’s not that, your Majesty. It is not my fear that you do wish for my aid, but that I believe myself to no longer be of use to you.

Again, silence lingered as the words refused to come. When they stepped under an arch of fairy-lights, he was rendered speechless by the way Kokichi lit up under them. How the cool night breeze picked up the ends of his hair, the glowing lights reflecting in his big curious eyes and surrounding him with an ethereal outline.

It was really starting to hit Shuichi just how far he’d fallen.

“Hey, you okay?”

Shaking out of his stupor, Shuichi met Kokichi’s eyes, sharp but concerned.

“Did you actually forget your line?”

“Oh! No, no. I just…” Shuichi was fighting the blush from his face, hoping beyond hope that Kokichi wouldn’t be able to see it in the dark. “I just got distracted. My line, um… But surely you speak nonsense, my dearest Seer! Without you I’d be dead within the hour! I couldn’t possibly survive without your otherworldly wisdom.”

Shuichi was certain Kokichi hadn’t been convinced and the small voice in the back of his brain kept screeching about how he’d just blown everything. But, against all odds, the rest of the evening went by as normal, Shuichi would have even said enjoyably. If Kokichi had been suspicious of something or other, he hadn’t brought it up.

They split a few hours later, tired and agreeing they needed rest before the show the following day. Especially if Shuichi was forgetting his lines, something Kokichi had refused to stop teasing him about.

Shuichi just hoped his stupid emotions didn’t get in the way of the show.


	11. Chapter 11

The day of the performance had everyone scared and giddy.

Everything all their hard word had been leading up to was finally on the doorstep and they were about to put their efforts to the test. At this point they could only hope that everything was in order.

In light of the play, Shuichi had managed to put everything else in his mind on hold. When he had the script in front of him, or at least in his head, he was emotionally invincible. Which was definitely a boon, what with all the other stresses everyone had been thrown into.

Shuichi had just finished being inspected by Tsumugi, making sure he wasn’t in danger of any costume malfunctions, when Angie skipped in and announced that Kirumi was finally allowing people into the theatre.

Tsumugi let out a little shriek before running off to make sure Kiyo had actually gotten Rantarou into his costume instead of going off on a tangent about anthropology. Angie just continued to skip past Shuichi, over to the props cupboard where Kaito, Ryouma and Gonta were all accounting for everything.

Moments later, people started stampeding about, trying to make sure everything was ready or get a hold of something they needed but hadn’t yet received. Keebo especially was frantically sprinting about, checking everyone’s microphones were connected and working, rapidly speaking to Miu in the control box over a walkie-talkie.

With nothing to do but go over his lines a final time, Shuichi risked a glimpse past the stage band and into the audience, only to regret it immediately. He hadn’t realised quite how many people the Hope’s Peak theatre could seat.

What had been thinking, agreeing to be a lead? He couldn’t do this! Not with so many people watching, waiting for him to mess up so they could laugh. Not when he had all of his friends’ work to carry through. Not when there was so much pressure to be perfect.

“So, you ready Shuichi?”

Shuichi snapped around at the sound of Kokichi’s singsong voice, knowing the panic overtaking him was more than evident in his face. Kokichi looked perfectly fine though, as if this was something he did every day. Although, if he was to be believed about his secret organisation, he probably did. “It may have been a bad idea to look, yknow? Especially for someone with nerves like yours. Frail as tissue paper.” He smiled cheekily when Shuichi glared at him. “You can’t see them when you’re on stage. The lights are too bright.”

Shuichi huffed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been in school plays before.”

“Then why are you so worked up?”

“Because there’s a little more riding on this than there was when I was nine.”

Kokichi cocked his head to the side, smile curious. “What, are your parents here?”

“Oh  _ God no _ !” Shuichi almost shouted, shaking his head. “They’re still in America, where they belong.” He scowled, looked back out to the audience and blanched. “But if we mess up, then all our hard work is wasted. There’s only one performance, one shot, one fail to make the whole thing meaningless.”

Much to Shuichi’s disbelief and offense, Kokichi laughed at him. “Wow Shuichi, there’s no need to get like that. It’s a school play.”

“Yeah, a school play our friends have put a buttload of work into!”

“Look at you, pulling out the bad language. How ungentlemanly of you, Gonta will be ashamed.”

This was just typical of Kokichi. “Well I’m sorry, but we can’t all be as perfect as you are!”

Instead of acting defensively or lashing back out with something about how he’s been working as hard as everyone else or whatever, Kokichi just smiled, gentle and warm. Shuichi had no idea how to respond to such nonchalance. But he didn’t have to, as then Kokichi picked up his hand and squeezed it. “Well I know at least someone can.  _ You are! _ .”

Any words that may have been rattling around Shuichi’s head had fallen out. He’d been rendered utterly speechless, mouth hanging dumbly as he stared.

“You’re good at acting,” Kokichi assured him, squeezing his hand again in both of his own. “And no one’s going to care if you mess up a line or stumble or anything. Because everything you  _ do _ will will be so amazing, they’ll forget about it! Besides, you’ve had to put up with me everyday for the last two months. Compared to that, this’ll be a cinch!”

Shuichi found himself chuckling, ease returning to him and even a sense of confidence bubbling up, warm in his gut.

In spite of the butterflies that crowded his stomach and the blush that burned his cheeks whenever Kokichi was around at the moment, the feeling of comfort he inspired in Shuichi lingered. Even though he managed to dissolve Shuichi into a blubbering puddle of feelings, Kokichi could still make Shuichi feel like, if he had him by his side, he could conquer the world.

And so, not ten minutes later, the curtain rose. They were off.

Sure enough, Shuichi, and everyone else, killed it.

Everything had gone according to plan. No technical failings, no one forgot their lines, the sets looked great, the costumes stayed in one piece. Everyone was ready to congratulate themselves on a job well done.

But then the final scene came around and Shuichi did something stupid.

He didn’t know what came over him as he stood there, watching Kokichi recite the romantic lines. His tone and expression were so real and it made his heart pound in his ears, affection for the boy overflowing. He knew it was an act, he knew it was fake and in character. But the way Kokichi’s presence could put him at ease, the way the sound of his voice could both spark his nerves and calm them down, the way the mere thought of him could send him aflutter.

It all became a little too much for him to handle.

“So again, I beg that you forgive me such insolence as to feel this way for someone I could never deserve such affection from. But know that I speak all of this in candour; I could never lie about my love for you.”

Shuichi hesitated for a moment, as the script told him to, staring into Kokichi’s earnest looking expression and, after a split-second decision, cupped the boy’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Pulling away, the comprehension that he’d done something idiotic came crashing down on him. Something so irrational and spur of the moment. But now that it was done, he to sit in the bed he’d made for himself.

“Beloved Seer, how can someone so intelligent ever be so blind? I wear my love for you on my sleeve, my preference for you like a badge of honour! I could never deem you unworthy of my affections, for no one could be more deserving.”

If his ability to maintain composure in rehearsal had been the second most impressive thing Shuichi had and would ever do, continuing  _ now _ was the first.

“For months you have saved me from peril, again and again, for how long have you been trying to spare me of your lies, of the hurt you believe you could cause me? I am no fool, I saw through you long ago. Yet my craving for your attention and company kept me from ever letting you leave.”

Shuichi could feel the gazes of his classmates from the wings, he knew that were gaping at him the same way Kokichi was in front of him: slack jawed and dumbstruck. He didn’t know how he continued when Kokichi was staring at him that way, head likely whizzing with confusion and betrayal, disgust and worse. He couldn’t begin to fathom how he didn’t just run away.

“For you see, if one were to take every fish in the sea, blade of grass in the ground, every star in the sky, my love for you would be greater than the count! So now I beg  _ you _ , to understand that there is, and never will be, anything to forgive.”

Hardly believing his eyes and ears, Shuichi watched in awe as Kokichi continued as well. Continued as if it had been planned in the script all along. As if Shuichi hadn’t just breached the boundaries of their friendship, their trust, for something so selfish and indulgent.

In fact, the rest of the scene played out as perfectly as the rest of the show. The curtain closed on the final joke to uproarious applause. The fifteen of them behind the stage returned for final curtain call, bowing to their audience as Kirumi and Kaede gave their thanks before the show finally ended. All of it over. All of it going down without a hitch.

But again, Shuichi rushed to get undressed, to gather his things and be gone from the school as soon as he possibly could. He was making his beeline to the exit when he heard the last voice he wanted to hear yell out behind him.

“Shuichi!”

Pretending he hadn’t noticed Kokichi, Shuichi continued on, set on throwing the doors open and fleeing to his dormitory. But Kokichi ran up and grabbed his arm, turning him around, a frustrated frown set on his face.

“Are you seriously just going to ignore this?!” he asked, fingers digging into Shuichi’s arm, trying to make sure he didn’t run. “This isn’t one of those things you can just ignore!”

Shuichi couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the way Kokichi was looking at him, the way his gut wrenched knowing that it was his fault, that it was his stupid impulsive actions that had done this. With an irrational burst of anger, more towards himself than anything, he threw Kokichi off of him and stood back, sneering. “For once, would you just leave me the fuck alone?”

With nothing further, refusing to look at the other’s reaction, he kicked the doors open and stormed out into the theatre foyer.

Little had he known that something much, much worse was waiting for him on the other side of them.

“Shuichi! Oh, darling, you did so well!”

He blinked, refusing to believe his eyes.

“Mother? Father?”


	12. Chapter 12

Standing in the foyer, large smiles on their faces, were Shuichi’s parents.

Shuichi couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t been aware of their presence. They shouldn’t have been there. Yet somehow, he wasn’t surprised.

Still, it didn’t matter how unsurprised he was to see them, it didn’t stop his brain from short circuiting at the sight of them.

They moved forward to corner him, all smiles and praises.

“Isn’t this a wonderful surprise!” his mother enthused, clapping her hands together. “And I’m so glad we came, seeing you act was such a treat! Wasn’t he just incredible Keisuke?”

His father smiled proudly. “It helped that he had such a great script to work from though! It really is fortunate that his first performance was to a script so well written and professional. Something _original_.”

“Oh of course.” His mother nodded, reaching out to play with Shuichi’s hair, who was still staring at them, dumbstruck. “Nothing mess for _my_ baby boy. Oh, we’re so proud of you Shuichi! To think you were hiding such talent under all your shyness. I just knew you had it in you somewhere.” She tittered, fingers pressed daintily against her mouth. “You _were_ bred into it, after all! An aptitude for show business was sure to show up in some regard.”

“He’s our son alright!” His father clapped him hard on the back, all but knocking his lungs out through his ribs. “There’s an acting career in him yet Machiko, I’m tellin’ ya!”

“ _What!?!_ ” Shuichi choked out, eyes wide in disbelief. They _had_ to be joking? How could they have the nerve to bring up that idea when they were stood in the school where he was enrolled as the _Ultimate Detective?_ He knew they were stubborn, but he’d at least classed his parents as sane. “I-I’m not-”

But what Shuichi wasn’t was never heard, as his parents spoke over him, ignoring what he was trying to say. “Definitely! Straight to film I’d say,” his mother continued. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to wrangle him a part, or at least an audition! He’s very good, it’s unlikely he wouldn’t impress.”

“But I don’t-”

“Maybe we could start him on Broadway instead? He seemed a natural on the stage. And he can project well for someone so quiet, eh Shu?” His father shook his shoulder in a friendly manner, similar to how Kaito did. Except it had the opposite effect. “It’ll be even better if he has a secret talent for singing too.”

“I certa-”

“And he’ll have to come back to the states with us.”

“Of course. How can he ever hope to start a prolific acting career in Japan?”

“N-no! I don’t-”

It didn’t matter what Shuichi did, how panicked he got, how much his voice rose in pitch every time they suggested their ludicrous ideas, each more outlandish than the last. The frustration built and built with each word that fell from their mouths. Fear and betrayal building up with the idea that they might try to rip him away from everything he’d established in the past decade.

“Um, excuse me!”

All three of them swivelled around to look at the source of the new voice.

At some point, Kokichi had come to stand by Shuichi’s side, a bright and polite smile plastered over his face. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you, but are you two Shuichi’s parents?”

The two of them looked rather surprised at first, but soon broke into more excited chatter.

“You’re the boy who played the other lead!” Shuichi’s father exclaimed, blessing Kokichi with a hearty pat on the shoulder. “You really have a talent, young man!”

His mother agreed. “Simply fantastic! You _must_ be the Ultimate Actor! Only someone with a talent like yours could hold such a title. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Kokichi bowed. “Though I’m afraid I’m not the Ultimate actor, nowhere near actually! But you see I-”

“Oh don’t be silly!” Machiko waved her hand dismissively. “You’re such a good actor that I almost believed you! Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have him star in one of my shows, Keisuke?”

He nodded. “Someone with such a title in your show! That would certainly boost the ratings.” The boisterous grin lining Keisuke’s handsome features hardened and became business-like. “Can you speak English, son?”

Kokichi could hardly believe he’d been interrupted and subsequently told he was _wrong_ about his own identity. When he recomposed himself, the smile that came back was now more confused than polite. “Well, yes, but-”

“Brilliant! We must be in contact with your agent! Ooh, we’ll get you both breaking out in Hollywood in no time!”

Again, the smile dropped from Kokichi’s face, this time not coming back when he spoke. “I don’t have one.”

“Really? Oh, I suppose your parents manage your work. Are they here, we must talk to them.”

“I don’t have an agent because I’m _not_ the Ultimate Actor. I’m the Ultimate Supreme Leader.”

Shuichi’s parents broke out into hysterics, his father’s laugh booming across the room and his mother’s small trill chiming like the highest notes on an out of tune piano. “Boy, you’re too much!”

As they continued to laugh, Kokihi glanced over at Shuichi, a look of utter disbelief on his face. Shuichi was still too out of it to react. Undeterred though, Kokichi rose his voice, commanding their attention with an air of experience. “Mister and Missus Saihara, while I hate to disturb you two, I have something to ask.”

They quieted down and looked at him, attention successfully caught.

“You see, I’m actually a very close friend of your son’s!” The polite smile from earlier was back, although this time, at least to Shuichi, it was a much more obvious mask. “And I couldn’t help overhearing that you planned to move him to the States with you, yes?”

“Oh yes! Seeing as he’s realised his gift for acting, it’s only natural that we’d help him capitalise on it!”

Kokichi assumed a curious frown now, still appearing perfectly good natured. “Well, frankly I disagree. You see, I’d like to think that I know your son fairly well, now. And from what I’ve seen, he positively hates acting! Pursuing a career in it… well that’s his worst nightmare.”

“Are you blind?” Keisuke asked, bewildered. “You were acting alongside him. He’s a natural! Born and bred.”

“That doesn’t mean he liked it!” Kokichi pointed out, adding a small giggle for effect. “You may be really good at something, but that doesn’t mean you want to do it for the rest of your life. Especially for someone as prone to stage fright as Shuichi. To make him continue with something that frightens him half to death, well… I’d consider that borderline abusive!”

That didn’t settle well with Machiko, whose face pinched together in indignation. “Are you implying we’re bad parents!?”

“Oh, precisely!” Kokichi beamed. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I think you’re such bad parents that you don’t deserve to make, well, any sort of decision in his life. I mean, to call you parents is a joke in itself!” He laughed, moving to hold his hands behind his back.

Machiko and Keisuke were so affronted, they were at a complete loss for words. They watched Kokichi rock back on his heels in silence, mouths agape.

“You guys are such bad parents that Shuichi either gets vitriolic or terrified when his phone rings because he thinks it could be you. So really, it might be best if you just left and didn’t come back.”

“And what gives you the authority to say that?” Machiko retorted, appalled. “Shuichi certainly doesn’t feel that way and he doesn’t want us to leave. Do you, dear?” She turned to look at her son, desperate for his protest.

He averted his gaze, expression pained. “Well… yeah, actually,” he began, quietly. “I never really wanted you here in the first place. Frankly, it’s baffling how far you went out of your way to not take the hint.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow, frustration that he’d been subduing for years finally bubbling to the surface. “I mean, you’ve been distant for years. The second it seemed like I might hold you guys back you just… got rid of me. And now that I’m suddenly showing promise, or whatever, you try to worm your way back into my life.” He glared at the floor, hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’ve never shown an inkling of interest in anything I’ve wanted to do, you didn’t even care when I was invited to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the world simply because it wasn’t for a reason you agreed with.”

“Look,” he said, now meeting his parents’ shocked faces, aware of the looks he was getting from the surrounding crowd but not finding it in himself to give a shit. “If you want to be a part of my life again, that’s great. There’s always been a part of me that wanted you there in spite of knowing how little I mattered to you. But you will _not_ come back only to try and control my life and treat me like I don’t have any agency. I’m happy here and I’m not going to let you change that or take me away from it.”

Shuichi stopped to catch his breath, watching his parents with trepidation, defiance still pulsing loudly in his ears, but anticipating a screaming fit or for them to laugh him off and keep on like he hadn’t said anything.

However, with nothing further, the couple stormed from the room, leaving Shuichi and Kokichi alone by the door.

“God, your parents are dicks.” Kokichi shook his head before turning to look up at Shuichi. “You okay?”

Shuichi didn’t respond. He was still staring at where his parents had disappeared behind the door.

Were they really gone? For how long this time? Surely they’d persist, they always did. They weren’t the sort to give up when they wanted something. But then again, they were prideful too. They wouldn’t risk returning after a spectacle like _that_ , would they?

Stranger yet, Shuichi didn’t know how to feel about it.

He could never claim to like them, to want them in his life but… they _were_ his parents. They may not have been close, or the warmest, but he’s never hated them.

But he was definitely relived to see them go. To think that he may never have to deal with them again. To think that he’d never have deal with the stress and confusion they left in their wake.

He wasn’t sure when, and he wasn’t sure why either, but, at some point, he’d started crying.

“H-huh? Oh, err, hey, Shuichi.” Kokichi scrambled for soothing words, moving over to comfort him. “We should get out of her. C-come on.” He pulled on Shuichi’s arm with one hand, pushing his back with the other, guiding him backstage and into the first room he could find: a closet.

He pushed Shuichi through the door and flipped on the lights, moving to grab a step stool in the corner. “Sit,” he ordered, gently forcing Shuichi down before crouching beside him.

Shuichi wiped his eyes, breaths shuddering, trying to regain any semblance of composure. But as he glanced back up at Kokichi, he felt a sob catch in the back of his throat. Before he could stop it, it come loose as a screaming wail.

After everything he’d done, all the lines he’d crossed, Kokichi was still there for him. Still helping him. Still caring for him.

Kokichi’s hand began rubbing soothing circles on Shuichi’s back, shoulder ready when he keeled over and buried his face into it. He whispered words of comfort into Shuichi’s ear, interspersed with gentle shushes and silence, just letting Shuichi flood it all out of his system.

His racking sobs echoed off of the closet walls. But they grew quieter and quieter as Shuichi ran out of tears to shed. His shaky breaths tumbled down Kokichi’s chest, eyes seeing nothing other than fabric. He felt his head clear, his thoughts return, foggy and jumbled as they were.

With painstaking effort, Shuichi lifted his head. He kept his gaze fixed on his feet. The presence of Kokichi’s hand on his back didn’t go away though, neither did he try to move. He just stayed. He stayed for Shuichi, for the sake of his comfort. To make sure he was okay. It was more than Shuichi thought he could ever thank the other for. Especially after…

Another sob escaped Shuichi’s throat at the thought. He forced himself to look up, to meet Kokichi’s kind eyes. But his face screwed up again and he buried it in his hands, shaking his head violently, regret and guilt trickling, ice like, down his spine.

“H-hey, what’s wrong?” Kokichi asked, confused by the sudden resurgence of tears and erratic behaviour.

Shuichi steadied himself, trying to control his breathing, preparing to speak. “I…” He gulped hard. “I’m so… I’m sorry,” he whimpered into his hands, curling in on himself. “I shouldn’t have… it was wrong to just…” A harsh cough interrupted him, slicing down his throat.

“What…” Kokichi furrowed his brow, patting Shuichi’s back as he coughed. “What are you saying sorry for?”

“For kissing you!” Shuichi almost shouted, voice hysterical and scared. I just… it was so…”

“Oh Shuichi,” Kokichi cut him off hands moving to cup his cheeks, a wry smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Then, Kokichi kissed him.

It was light and tentative so as not to startle him. But it was also sweet and genuine and on the whole, utterly perplexing.

When he pulled away, Shuichi could do little but gawk at him. “Y-you can’t be… B-but that’s not… It can’t possibly...”

Kokichi held his face still in his hands, looking directly at him. “Know that I speak all of this in candour.” He paused and smiled, running his thumb over Shuichi’s cheek. “I could never lie about my love for you.”

***

That particular morning had been more than average for Shuichi. He hadn’t awoken to anything strange, his breakfast hadn’t been poisoned and he’d met nothing out of the ordinary on the walk from the dorms to his classroom. And as he waited for registration to commence, his nose in a book, the rest of the class was milling about the way they did every morning. That included lively conversation, excited gossip and someone whooping about something or other.

Everything was perfectly normal.

“Morning!” A cheerful voice suddenly rang in his ear, a pair of thin arms latching around his neck.

“You sleep in?” Shuichi asked, turning to look at Kokichi, closing the book and laying it on the table.

“Nah. I ran into a chimera on my way over. I had to slay it before it rampaged through the school.” Kokichi lifted his hand and casually fiddled with the ends of Shuichi’s fringe. “I wouldn’t want my beloved Prince getting hurt now, would I?”

Shuichi chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. “ _My hero_.”

Just then, Kaede and their form teacher walked in through the door, unusually late. Kaede looked unusually nervous as well.

This couldn’t be good.

She nodded to their teacher and said something hushed before turning to grab everyone’s attention. “Err, guys? I have a bit of news.”

“Everyone fell quiet and turned to look at her.

“Well, I know the play was only a couple of weeks ago, but headmaster Kirigiri asked me if we’d be willing to do a more public production. It would be during the New Year’s displays in January. He was watching at the festival and thought it was the perfect representation of what the students of Hope’s Peak can accomplish when uniting their talents. So um… well I said I’d ask you guys.

After a beat of silence the room erupted into a chorus of assent. It had gone so well before and it had been fun. Everyone wanted to do it again.

“It can’t go as badly as last time, can it?” Shuichi asked, looking back up at Kokichi, snorting quietly.

“Well, at least I’ll know you’re going to kiss me this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for finishing this thing! I hope you enjoyed reading it
> 
> EDIT: I changed the ending a little. I wasn't, and I know some of you weren't either, happy with how little agency Shuichi carried in the climax with his parents and all, so I changed it! If anyone's re-reading or whatever, I'd love to know if you appreciated the change!


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